Ivory Keys
by thirteen-forty-two
Summary: The healing power of music is a funny thing.


**As a writer, I'm not a big fan of this story at all. But it has been in my documents for a very long time. _**

* * *

"_What the world needs now is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little of_…"

Nimble fingers smoothly danced over ivory keys - the same creamy color as his silky skin. The spotlight over head only adding to his beauty, giving him a soft aura, like that of a celestial being banished from the heavens.

Today had been a hard one, full of angst and tears for his fierce crimson eyes, which have now glazed over with resentment only toward himself. Fortunately, it could all wash away now, thanks to the piano's teeth beneath his fingertips, giving into his will no matter what order he pushed them. Each key would chime the way he told it to.

"_What the world needs now is love, sweet love_," he sang. "_No, not just for some, but for everyone_…"

Light tears built up pressure in his eyes, creating an unearthly sparkle upon letting them spill. He was barely affected as they rolled down each smooth cheek, cooling as they went, until they crashed against his hands, cold like the eyes of a past lover; sending an unwarranted chill over his heart.

Still, he carried on, never ceasing to hit each key on time. His beat… flawless.

"_Lord, we don't need another mountain. There are mountains and hillsides enough to climb_…"

But why?

Damn it… Why did it hurt so fucking much?

His hands began to tremble.

"_There are oceans and rivers enough to cross. Enough to last until the end of time_."

And his voice began to break.

"_What the world… needs now… is love, sweet- **FUCK**_!"

He slammed his hands on the keys, flinching at the ugly sound emitted by the piano as it protested against his imperfection. Imperfection… Tch. Let's not even go there.

Running his long, nimble fingers through ebony hair, he gave up, cursing the way music had now let him down, adding to his personal turmoil for the day. Was the entire world against him on this fateful day? Was he so wrong… was he so bad… was he so fucking horrible…?

Haha.

Yes.

Miserably, he chuckled toward his own depravity, cursing himself for giving up his universe for the sake of… of… nothing.

Nothing at all.

And this song? How stupid. What the fuck was he thinking? It wasn't even a _good_ song by his standards.

Grimacing, he slumped over, and began to play once again, hating himself more with every key.

Fuck this day.

And fuck love. What did love ever do for him… other than fill his heart with pretty, little lies, which were just as scandalous as he was…?

So why couldn't he stop singing about it?

"_What the world needs now is love, sweet love_…"

Maybe the world needed love, but love was only a small piece of what he needed.

He smirked in reaction to the image painted on the inside of his eyelids as he held his special eyes closed. Wild blond hair. Hypnotic hurricane eyes. Sun kissed skin. That knowing smirk. A cigarette neatly tucked beneath perfect lips. And that voice… that sweet, sultry voice…

God damn, what had he thrown away?

Simple.

Everything.

Eyes closed still, he continued to live in the past while his fingers said all there was to say through his playing. He did not want to lose sight of his vision, unwilling to let go just yet.

The pain of loss reached it maximum. He ceased playing, once more, burying his face in his hands.

"_What the world needs now is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little of. No, not just for some but for everyone_."

That was not his voice.

"Hnn?"

He opened his eyes, feeling a presence looming over his shoulders. Confused, he glanced to either side of himself, watching tanned hands cover the keys that had only just been in his control. With much less expertise, they continued the song in a simpler format.

Fighting through surprise, he smirked, wiping away his tears. "You have no talent for music, Shizu-chan," he scoffed.

"I have what you've given me."

"I've given you nothing…"

Izaya moved his hands back to the keys, expertly taking on a new tune, one much more fitting to his tastes.

"Bullshit," Shizuo mumbled, taking a seat beside him. He followed Izaya's playing, carefully adding his own substance to the melody. "You've given me everything."

"_Come up to meet you… tell you I'm sorry… You don't know how lovely you a-a-are. I had to find you… tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apa-a-art. Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions. Oooh, lets go back to the start_…"

When the words from his own heart weren't enough, applying them to song seemed to accurately do the trick.

"That song… you know I - Damn it, Flea," he smirked regretfully, taking note of the glistening tears in Izaya's eyes.

"It's one of my favorites…"

"You play it beautifully... But… is that really what you feel?"

Izaya couldn't help his cheeks flaring with heat as he gave a small, sheepish nod. He didn't ask for this. Any of it. He didn't deserve it either. "I'm sorry I ran away…" he mumbled, ashamed of himself.

"And I'm sorry I scared you off," Shizuo's full smile broke through, lifting his fingers from the keys, as he became much more interested in the ivory surface of his partner's body than the musical instrument before them.

Coiling his arm around boney shoulders, he leaned in, stealing a swift kiss from Izaya's perfect lips.

"Please… don't run away again."

Izaya blinked. "You still want me…? Even though I...?"

Shizuo pulled his arms away from the smaller man, setting his fingers into an organized position over the piano keys.

"_Running up circles; coming up tails. Heads on a science apart. Nobody said it was easy. It's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard. Oh, take me back to the start_…"

For a long moment, the pianist sits with a furrowed brow, watching the man before him take on the song he taught him to play. It is now that he understands.

"I think I get it now…"

"Yeah?"

Gently sliding his palms over the larger man's hands, he moved their hands to a new segment of keys, pushing on Shizuo's fingers as if they themselves were the piano's teeth. And so a new tune began.

"I've never heard this one before," the blond stated, slowly becoming used to the new feel. He isn't a professional. He only likes to play when the smaller creature is close to him.

"That's because I've never played it before," Izaya smirked.

"What is it?"

"The song that plays in my heart every time you're close to me…"

Shizuo got used to the pattern, and Izaya pulled his elegant hands away, leaving the blond's skin burning for more. It was a sweet touch. A bit like an addiction. Unable to resist, he leaned over again, kissing away the remnants of tears in his partner's eyes. It's a way of saying thank you, and that he is happy to have this love, despite its hardships.


End file.
